Black and White
by mrsbeyondthebend
Summary: A new Immortal is created! But who made her? Is she an Immortal made by the Man in Moon, or...someone else? Is she a danger, or an ally? Or worse, a monster? As the story goes on, the girl slowly discovers her personality and fate, learning how dangerous it is for her to be near any living creature, especially the Guardians. Will she be able to overcome this disability? If so, how?
1. The black-haired girl

**A/N:**

 **To all who are reading this: the** **fic is just halfway done, but I will let it out anyway until i could catch up to where I've stopped. I hope you all like it. Do comment and review, (and best be follow) no matter you're being rude or not! Your opinions for what to happen next is critical. ;)**

 **Now enjoy the story the most you can :D**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own the Rise of the Guardians)**

Blood.

A dagger, sifting into ashes.

Her hands, slick with blood.

Two people, one man and one woman, dead, in front of her. Their blood was black in the darkness, same as her hair, melting and mixing with the shadows. Looking around, she noticed that she was in a bedroom. Probably the room where the two people slept.

 _What just happened?_ She tried to remember—there was blood, a lot of screaming—a man, telling her to wake up and thank him for—something. She struggled to remember—but shadows were flying past, blocking her mind—a little bit of blue. A flash of light, refracted from glasses. Laughter. What _were_ those? Who was she? Why was she even there?

She had no clue at all.

There wasn't enough moonlight for her to see any other things, other than her own dress: a plain, long, elegant dress that clung to her and brought out her curves. (Assuming there was even any curves) But she felt strange…something was missing.

 _The blood!_ She gasped. A few seconds ago her hands were covered in blood, but now—a few ashes, and they were all that was left of the blood.

 _Why? How?_

There was a sensation; _something_ , tugging her, telling her to move on, and that only in doing so would make her know. _Well, there's nothing here for me to see anyway._ She shrugged, and closed her eyes, allowing the sensation to take over.

She felt her body flying downwards, down empty space, and a strong wind, howling—wait. Wind?! That room had been so quiet! How could there possibly be winds howling?

The winds died, and she felt herself sitting on solid ground again.

 _Well, that had been less than one second._

The girl calmed herself and opened her eyes very, very slowly.

Hmm. _Colourful_. And there were bars and painted metals and wooden carvings. And some things…boards…hung on strings… Her mind searched her memories…what was this place called again? Ah, a _playground_.

Something told her that the boards on strings were swings. _Well, I have nothing to do anyway. I don't even_ know _what I'm supposed to do. So why not play on the swings and get myself some entertainment?_

She walked briskly towards one of the swings, and promptly started swinging herself upwards.

Higher, and higher, and higher…the mighty soaring feeling calmed her worries for a moment, her instincts telling her to enjoy herself in this moment, right now. She loved the swing, it was just like flying—you could just go freefalling all the way but not die.

Something picked up her ears. It sounded like…were those sounds footsteps?!

Panicking for no reason at all, her instincts took over, and she jumped from the swing at the highest point, ready to land on the floor and find some hideout, probably. Her mind screamed for her to get away, and she didn't even know why the jump took so long.

She opened a crack in her eyes to see what was happening, and regretted it that instant. She was engulfed in darkness. The wind was howling up again. She exclaimed, in her horror, "Bloody h—"

* * *

The Easter Bunny had had a good day. He'd painted half a million eggs in one day, _and_ managed to throw his boomerang and break Sandman's dream lines three times before Sandman noticed and attempted to knock him out. (okay, that wasn't really the good part)

Anyway, he was just planning for a good evening of carrots and maybe a bit of boomerang practices, when a loud noise—sounding very much like a shriek of "—ELLLLLLLLLL" and a crash—in his plains interrupted his thoughts.

 _Ah, those giant eggs knocking themselves over again._ He rolled his eyes, and went out from his little room, wanting to know what had just happened.

However, out on his peaceful plains, there was none of the mess he'd thought he'd heard. There wasn't even a shadow. _What? Do I have…hearing problems?_

"Wait. Are you _the Easter Bunny_?!" A girl's voice rang up behind him.

* * *

The girl watched as the hare froze in his place, turning, not without dread, to face her.

His jaw dropped when he saw her.

The girl thought about what was so peculiar about her that was worth _the_ Easter Bunny to drop his jaw. She crossed her arms, being quite annoyed, and looked down at herself. Which immediately made her understand why.

God, _wow_. She was _gorgeous._ Her long black hair tumbled down her back, and her skin was a pearly kind of translucence that looked like she had an aura pulsing around her. (Or maybe she really had an aura) Her dress, high collared but with an open cut in the middle reaching just below her collarbone, made her look tall and regal, and in the same time made her look like all sharp planes and black and white contrasts. But, somehow, she knew that her eyes were the only things that softened her—they were not black or white, but dark shades of brown.

The Easter Bunny was still staring at her.

"H…how on earth did you even _get_ here?" the Bunny said, still not taking his eyes off her. "Only the Guardians know their way…to here…and even them could only arrive by using North's portal snow crystal balls… _how?_ "

The girl could not think of any kind of reply. "Coincidence?" she suggested.

"Oh my G—North would want to know about this," he tapped the floor twice, and a tunnel hole appeared. "Now come on and get in."

Completely confused, the girl jumped in, with the Bunny following, and the two of them slid down a green tunnel that seemed to go on forever.

She had just begun to get used to the falling feeling, when the tunnel ended; and, without warning, she landed on something soft.

The Easter Bunny followed suit, knocking her down.

"Ow," she said. "You—"

" _Ow_ ," Another voice with a heavy Russian accent, said below her. "You two are so heavy."

The Easter Bunny and the girl both jumped off as quickly as possible. "Um, N—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, let me get up first." The man, big and (seemingly) fat, grunted and began to get up.

The girl took her time and looked around. They were in a huge sort of circular room, with five stratums of balconies at least. A giant globe of the Earth floated on its own in the middle of the room. Panels were in front of the globe, full of large and small buttons. Next to the globe was a set of stairs connecting all the floors, with yetis walking on it; there was also a wooden lift near the panels, presumably only used by North. Right under her feet, there was a symbol on the floor, with the word "G" engraved on it. There were all sorts of carpets and flags hanging around, so that the whole place felt very cozy. Turning to look, she saw a gigantic hearth, a fire roaring brightly inside. Next to the grate were floor-to-ceiling windows and small corridors on both sides, leading to different places.

A hand on her shoulder made the girl jump. "Hello, pretty little girl. My name is North. But everyone has different names like Santa Claus for me so don't ponder on what to call me, I'll know anyway." The big beardy man said, in a very warm tone that resembled the feeling the room gave her.

"Ahem," The Easter Bunny cleared his throat behind North. "Um…North? I found this girl in my warren—"

"You did? What happened? How did she get in? What did she do?" The man, North, seemed to be very much interested.

The Bunny sighed an exasperated sigh. "I don't know, okay? That's why I'm finding _you._ My warren could only be accessed through using my tunnel or your snow globes. But this girl carried none. And don't tell me she's been following me, I know she didn't."

North looked annoyed. "So why would I know? This isn't really my business..."

The girl was very much bored. She tuned the voices out: no one would remember that she was there anyway.

She started walking around the globe and up some stairs, folding herself up behind one of the railings. There were some elves passing by, and one of them very kindly offered her some biscuits. She had been going to decline, and was just going to pat the elf—her finger had already touched the elf—and its flesh dissipated, leaving only its bones behind, clattering to the floor.

Its companion squeaked. The girl gasped. North and the Easter Bunny turned at the same time and banged the sides of their heads together.

* * *

"Ow…" The Bunny muttered as he walked around the panels surrounding the globe and up the stairs next to it to see what was happening. North followed suit.

 _What's wrong_ now _?_ The Bunny thought. _Probably_ not _knocking over those yeti's pyramids again. That's_ always _going to result in—_

The sight in front of him made him stop. North bumped into him, but he didn't really feel it. "Wh—" North was going to say, but stopped and stared when he saw the pretty girl.

The girl stared back, but with more horror than North.

One of North's elves had become a pile of bones.

* * *

The girl was frightened. Very frightened indeed. She'd just killed an elf. By just touching it. "I—I—" she stammered.

"Bun—ny?" North said, without taking his eyes off the girl. "Uh, call—the Guardians—please?" His voice was almost inaudible, just slightly lighter than a whisper.

The Easter Bunny looked from North to the girl, and back and forth. Then, as if in very slow motion, he went back down the stairs, to the panels, and pressed a wooden button on the panel around the globe, making the globe glow with aurora.

North now put his full attention on the girl. He knelt down to the floor, and—much to the girl's surprise—smiled.

"Oh, don't mind my elves, they're just here to do nothing, so no worry," North said, and patted the girl on her back.

He looked steadily into her eyes, and then said, "Now, what happened?"

The girl couldn't understand what'd just happened herself. She'd just killed an _elf_. But Santa Claus wasn't even angry. _What?_

Very slowly, as if she lived in another dimension, the girl whispered, "I, I don't know. I just wanted to pat your elf, and—the moment I touched it, its flesh just—disappeared."

North looked like he was considering. "Hm…this is very unusual," he began.

"What is?" a boy's voice, casual and easy, rang from below.

The girl turned, and saw a boy with glistening white hair and clear, crystal blue eyes, looking not more than fifteen, staring back at her.

North's voice boomed from behind the girl, and she heard him say, "Ah, Jack! Welcome. How is your Guardian life going?"

"Well, it's been okay, just a lot of meeting Bunny when it's winter in Australia." The white haired boy said, still using his casual voice, but now it had a slight tone of irritation in it.

"Yeah, and he's trying to wreck my Easters again." Bunnymund complained.

"Oh, don't be like this, you're all family!" North said, as he walked down the stairs.

Then a woman with dragon scales flew in through the window, along with a sand aeroplane, taking a very small Sandman.

"Ah, Sandy, Tooth!" North's voice boomed. "How are your lives going?..."

The girl, feeling not really in the circle at all, tuned out their voices once more, and engaged herself in exploring her powers instead.

She touched a delicately small bone, and the bone sifted away to ashes. _Ah, so_ that's _why the blood disappeared so quickly,_ she thought. _They turned into ashes._

An idea suddenly came into the girl's mind. She ran her hand over her arm and extended the sleeves of her dress, holding it close to her nose, smelling the fabric. _Burnt ashes. So that's—_

"Hello," a voice ringing behind the girl once more broke her out of her reverie. She identified it as the white-haired boys voice, just as the situation became clearly awkward. "Uh…who are you?" the boy said.

"I, ah…Actually, I don't know."

Somehow the girl found this answer very embarrassing.

The white-haired boy sat down behind this particular girl, and said, "What is your center, then? You must be having a very special one, since you got chosen by the moon."

A sound tickled behind the girl's mind. _No._ "But I wasn't chosen by the moon." She said to the boy, having no idea why she knew about that at all. "I don't know who made me immortal. I only know that my touch could kill." _Okay, not even me knew about that until now._

The boy sucked in a gasp, which was clearly heard by the girl. After some compromising silence, the boy said, with a slight bit of forced cheer, "Well, we can't just keep calling you 'the girl'. How about giving you a name?"

"What sort of name?"

"Um…Emma?"

"No."

"Jessica?"

"No."

"Er…Gabriel?"

"I thought that was a boy's name."

"Oh. Right. Uh…yeah."

An awkward silence descended on the two of them once more as Joyce attempted to listen to the heated argument going on behind them, while trying to get her eyes off the boy.

He had white hair, but dark, dark, brown eyebrows…such strange combinations…His crystal blue eyes brightened his whole icy complexion, adding a bit of mischief and intelligence into him. His hoodie was made to be perfectly fitting his eyes, matching the frost on his shoulders. And his skin was the same as hers...pale and slightly translucent.

"Er…How about Joyce?" the white-haired boy suggested, desperate to break the ice.

 _Joyce. Hmm…_ "Sounds okay," the girl said. "What about _your_ name? What is your name?"

"Oh, sorry," The white haired boy said. " I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Jack. Jack Frost. My touch freezes things."

He touched another bone of the elf, and it froze over with ice. "See?"

"Wow," the girl exclaimed. "That is just _so_ amazing. Much cooler than mine."

"My center is Fun," Jack explained. "And so I guard the fun that the children have by giving them snow in winter and playing with them."

" _Wow,_ " Joyce exclaimed once more. "That's _so cool_. I wish I knew what my center is."

Jack smiled at her. "Don't worry," he said. "Someday, you will, too."

"Jack!" North's voice came booming a little distance away. "Will you take the job?"

"Uh, yes!" he yelled back. "Uh, what kind of job, sorry?"

Some footsteps sounded, and the two teenage-looking immortals turned just in time to see all the older Guardians coming towards them. "Ah, I see. So _that's_ why you weren't discussing with us. You two snogging at first sight, Jack?" North asked jokingly.

Joyce was so surprised that she jumped and staggered backwards, only to bump into a yeti and change its flesh to ashes. Which caused a slight bit of gasping and backing away. "Oops," she whispered. "Sorry."

Jack, meanwhile, blushed a dark shade of red. "I—what?!—We—we did not!" he said. "We were just talking."

"'Just talking'? About what, your future lives?" the Easter Bunny said, crossing his arms.

Jack glared at him. "As if _you_ could keep your eyes off her."

The Easter Bunny, in turn, flushed a darker red.

"All right, enough arguing, you two," North interrupted, before the two could start knocking each other to the floor. "Jack, you were just agreeing to the job of looking after this beautiful young girl."

"What? Why?" Jack said, the blush still giving him a slight shade of pink in his cheeks.

"Well, after much _talk_ ," North said as he glared at the Easter Bunny. "We've agreed to let the girl see the world and learn to control her powers before letting her go off on her own. What do you think, pretty girl?"

"My name's actually Joyce now. We made it up just then," Joyce said, as she exchanged an "Uh-huh" glance with Jack and glared at the Easter Bunny. "Anyway, I think this is a good plan. I'm pretty glad I don't have to go off with the kangaroo, you know."

"What the _hell_?" Bunny said, as Jack fell to the floor, laughing. "Why does _everyone_ think I'm a kangaroo?"

"The accent?" Joyce suggested.

The Easter Bunny shot a glare at Joyce. "Not funny,"

"Oooh, love hate," Jack said. "Always so exciting to watch."

"Shut up, you—" Joyce and Bunny began together.

"Now, now, everyone quiet." North interrupted. "Let's all get back to work before World War III breaks out,"

"Hee hee," Jack said with a mocking high-pitched voice.

North glared at Jack. "By the way, Tooth, I think you've got a few teeth off track. Sandy, you haven't given the dreams to a thousand sleeping children yet. Bunny, you've still got ten million eggs to finish, don't get too proud of yourself yet. Jack, get on with training Joyce. We'll be available if you need any one of us. Won't we, guys?"

Everyone except the Easter Bunny (who was still sulking) nodded.

Before she knew, Jack had already linked arms with Joyce, and soared into the sky. "We bid you adieu, then!" he shouted at the house below them, growing smaller and smaller.


	2. The Lake

**A/N: Happy Chinese New Year to all Chinese celebrating this great festival in the East. To all others, I also wish you all a fruitful year to come!Special thanks go to fangirl461046, who showed me that there are actually _people_ reading my experimental work. Of course, to all other anonymous readers, I hope you would also like this chapter. Do please review! I'm almost catching up with where I'd stopped, so you can always just tell me what I did wrong or suggest what to happen afterwards. Enjoy!**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own the Rise of the Guardians.)**

* * *

It had been the most wonderful experience for Joyce to fly with Jack. The wind supported her from below and blasted her forward with such a tremendous speed, that she'd almost forgotten that Jack was actually the one pulling her next to him. He'd told her that he was taking her to a favourite place of his, before explaining everything about the Guardians to her.

The Guardians guard different values that make up a wonderful childhood. The Tooth Fairy guards a child's memories; the Easter Bunny guards hope and new beginnings for the children; Sandman guards the dreams of the children; North guards wonder for the children; and Jack guards the fun the children feel every time it snows.

"Ah, and that's my destination," Jack said, just as he finished. "Come on!" and, without a moment of hesitation, he soared off towards the ground.

From a distance Joyce could only see that their destination was a sparkling spot; but as they closed in, she saw that it was a small lake, surrounded by a forest and frozen over with fresh ice.

"Uh, Jack?" she began. "Are you _sure_ the ice is hard enou—" her voice rose to a horrified long scream as Jack released his hold on her, letting her free-fall, with her back to the lake. The world went sliding away; what's worse was that she accelerated as she dropped.

The black-haired girl watched as the high treetops came into view, her scream rising—she had been so sure that she might as well be dying-when a hand suddenly caught her back, and another caught the back of her knees, making her screams stop abruptly. Then Jack came into view, flushed because of laughing.

"You like that fall?" he said as he slowly descended the rest of the journey down to the lake.

"NO, that was the most horrifying experience. I thought I was going to break the ice," Joyce said, still panting for breath. God, that fall _really_ took her breath away.

"Why? You forgot? My touch freezes things. See?" Jack replied as he landed, and pointed at the ice at his feet. As he put Joyce on the ice, he froze the surface below her, too, just in case she really fell. "I often come here, since it's always frozen here. I think I accidentally left some UFO talk here last time, though," he said, trying to joke.

But Joyce was not concentrating anymore; the sight around her had already taken her breath away. She turned in a slow circle, admiring the view. "Wow," she breathed. "This is so beautiful." There was soft clean snow, freshly fallen, on every treetop, and the lake was empty and clean, sparkling and reflecting a clear half-moon on the ice. Some bright stars hung in the sky, together with the bright half moon, making the place a beautiful half-illuminated setting.

Something tugged at the back of her mind. _I've been on the same kind of surface before. I've_ skated _before._ She didn't know where this thought came from, but it didn't matter, for her heart was already urging her to skate, to feel like taking flight again.

She quickly turned the bottom half of her long dress into tight leggings, complete with a short skirt layer on the upper section of her legs. Then she conjured up a pair of gorgeous white ice-skating shoes, and, without further warning, soared off on the ice.

The wind whipped at her, strong and piercing, and the air she sucked in was almost like shards of broken glass; but it didn't matter anymore, for her heart was taking flight, beating its every beat with more life than she had ever felt—

A hand snatched the back of her collar. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," the winter spirit said from behind. "Slow down, girl. You don't want to hurt yourself. Besides, Bunny would _so_ kill me if you drowned."

"By the way, I didn't know you could skate," he continued. "Are you really good at it?"

 _Just a beginner._ "I'm, uh, just a beginner," Joyce said. "You know, in my past life."

"You _remember_ your past?" Jack turned her without a warning, grabbing the girl tightly by her shoulders. "How?"

"I – I don't know," Joyce whispered, lowering her gaze to the ground. Somehow, those piercing blue eyes just didn't feel very good. Nor did his tight grip on her shoulders. "They just—pop out on their own. Don't yours, too?"

Jack sighed, and released his grip on her, looking to his right. "No. I had to look at mine from Tooth's memory boxes." He muttered.

Uh oh. This was getting _real_ bad. Even under the dim moonlight, Joyce could see that his eyes had turned a dark shade of blue, like clouds gathering before a storm. The previous sparkle of his eyes had all evaporated: his brows were joining slightly from his light frown.

(Thankfully) Then his gaze brightened, and he asked enthusiastically, "Do you want me to teach you to skate?"

 _Hell, yeah._ Joyce wanted to say. But instead, what out of her mouth was: "Well – okay."

Just as Jack was about to reach for her hands, Joyce stopped him. "Wait," she said, and ran her hands over each other. In a second, two white fur gloves, soft and nicely fitted, appeared on her hands.

"Well, what are you waiting for, then?" and, with this line said, the winter spirit threw his staff down on the ice next to them, and started pulling her on high speed across the lake.

Joyce was caught out of surprise: she stumbled a bit, but soon got her balance back. Her breath caught as they went gliding over the ice, the white-haired boy pulling the black-haired girl, going in circles and nearing the trees, holding one of each other's hands while the other hand touched the branches. She watched in amazement as frost spiraled from his feet, and, after an orbit, covered the whole lake.

Sometimes Jack would suddenly pull Joyce in for a twirl, and she would obey; she balanced very well, too. Joyce giggled like a three-year-old every time he pulled her into a wonderful twirl: she just loved his freedom and joy, radiating out of him like he was the sun.

"Not bad," Jack commented for more than once.

Then, once, Joyce took the chance of finishing a twirl, and pulled Jack before he could react. He made a yelp of surprise, but laughed when he found that Joyce had become the one leading the journey around the lake. "Not bad yourself," she said.

"Bruhssfjhds," Jack said—or rather, tried to say—as the wind stuffed a mouthful of black hair into his face. Joyce laughed, not letting him go and going backwards even quicker.

With a hurl that used up much of her energy, the black-haired girl tugged one of Jack's hands, and he reacted quicker than she thought, self-twirling at such a high speed that she wondered for a moment if he would overbalance himself. But he was Jack Frost, the Guardian of Fun, after all. He pretended to trip over, and Joyce was just ducking in time to catch him, when he grinned and said, "Gotcha,"

But before he could continue, Joyce had already released her hold intendedly, and Jack fell to the ice with a satisfyingly loud bang. Her laughter was so loud that it echoed around the lake for quite a long period of time.

" _Owwww_ ," Jack said as he flopped back up, faint an injured voice. "And I thought we were friends."

Joyce, still short of breath from her laughter, panted and joked, grinning widely, "Nah, I'm not _just_ your friend,"

Jack grinned. Suddenly, he started walking towards her, freezing her thoughts, her hands stopping in mid-action. Taking hold of her gloved hands at her sides, he held them up, smiling with the gentlest and the happiest smile Joyce had ever imagined anyone could smile...and somehow, she found herself grinning too. "Of course, I'm not _just_ your friend," he said, in a low voice, leaning in. Now the two's joined hands became the only thing separating them. She caught sight of Jack eyes, illuminated with not only wonder, but also…some indescribable kind of joy and sweetness.

Joyce's grin grew even wider, not expecting the other teen to have taken her joke seriously. "No, you're not." she said, as she tipped her head slightly upward, ready to kiss, and their foreheads were just an atom's distance away, and they would have been kissing-her _head_ was already imagining the feel of it, but—

 _My touch is deadly. My touch is deadly._ The thought suddenly appearing in her mind stopped Joyce, freezing her, fear coursing through her veins, her body tensing and ready to turn and run. But Jack's grip was still on her hands, and she could not pull away. _I can never kiss him. Nor can he ever touch me. Not really. Arghhh, I should never have let him get so close. This is all my fault._

Sensing her sudden tense, the winter spirit asked, gently and not without concern, "What's wrong, Joyce?"

She wanted to tell him that she'd kill him if he kissed her, that she'd never want to leave him after meeting him, and skating with him, that she loved him... but tears just somehow started flowing up her eyes, dripping down her pale face uncontrollably, like a tap running out of control. They stopped her from speaking or even uttering a word. Some tears hit Jack's hand, and some hit her gloves, burning away part of them. Jack winced as the tears struck his hand, inking small scars on his hand. _Oh,_ great. _Now I cry acid and wreck everything._ Joyce thought.

The sight of Jack getting hurt by Joyce herself made her cry harder, and she put her hands to her tear-stricken face, burning away the rest of her gloves. She didn't even notice when her knees gave out and she was actually sitting on the ice. "I'm sorry, Jack—" she stammered as she hiccuped a little. "I—" her tears took another tide, and she started sobbing again, shaking.

Without a word, the black-haired girl felt Jack's hands going around her. "Hey," he said. "It's going to be alright, okay? Let me take you to Sandy, you seem to need some rest."

With a thankful return-hug on him, Joyce released Jack, only to find him – shirtless.

A giggle somehow found its way to bubble up her body. Her touch must have turned the winter spirit's usual hoodie into ashes, and thereafter leaving his skin bare.

 _God, he was_ really _handsome._ The pale skin of his matched his silver hair, and brought out the crystal blue in his eyes. It was supposed to make him look caring and soft, but seeing him shirtless just somehow became so ridiculously funny that Joyce couldn't help but collapse with laughter, tears of joy running down her face now rather than tears of self-condemnation.

"What –" Jack began, and looked down, his hands unconsciously going upwards. Which made Joyce collapse in laughter again as this was just so hilarious.

Meanwhile, the winter spirit was getting whiter than snow. "What the – Oh my God, this is just so – arghhhh,"

Joyce, having finally managed to recollect herself, swiped her hand over the air in front of Jack, and a black shirt immediately appeared, covering him once more.  
"Now _that's_ what I'm talking about," Joyce said as she crossed her arms, admiring her work. The shirt fitted him perfectly, and even made Jack look cooler, more… _professional_. She swiped her hand over his leather pants, and they became a matching pair of black trousers, just slightly tight-fitting.

" _Wow,_ " Jack exclaimed. "Now _this,_ " he said as he picked up his staff, getting ready to go again. "Is what I call _amazing_."

But Joyce, without knowing, had already fallen asleep right on Jack's lap.

* * *

The Sandman had been doing his usual job of supplying dreams to children when Jack Frost flew up to his cloud, carrying Joyce. Within a few words, he informed Sandy that the girl was in need of a bit of sleep, and probably a sweet dream, too.

With their joined effort, they managed to hurl the heavy girl (who could've guessed?) onto Sandy's sand-made bed, and Jack quickly bid his adieu to go and give snow to children around the world.

The moment he went away, Sandman turned back to the Joyce, and supplied a dreaming line to the girl. He flopped down on his cloud, watching Joyce.

The dream sand started stacking up.

He wondered what she was dreaming about.

Much to his surprise, a life-sized dream-Jack Frost appeared next to Joyce, pulling a dream-Joyce with him as they went flying all around the cloud.

 _Strange,_ he thought to himself. _This must be a powerful dream. They don't usually get this big._

Then he set back to work, adding some dream lines and cancelling some.

The same went on for a few more hours, where Sandy would sometimes turn back and check on the girl, finding her dream form still skating happily with the dream-Jack Frost; while other times he'd just carry on with his work.

As dawn approached, he started cutting off most of the dream lines, stopping when only a few still-sound-asleep children's dream lines were the only ones in need of his supply.

He turned towards the snuggled-up Joyce behind him, and sat down, heaving out a soundless resting sigh. He watched as the two figures skated, hand-in-hand, panting and laughing, occasionally twirling on their own. Then the dream-Jack pretended to slip, so that dream-Joyce stooped to "save" him from banging on the ice. He grinned, and dream-Joyce realized that he was just joking; she released her hold immediately, and dream-Jack went banging on the dream-ice, with dream-Joyce laughing hard next to him.

They said something, (Sandy didn't know what) and dream-Jack started moving towards dream-Joyce, holding up her hands between them. He ducked just as dream-Joyce grinned, moving her head upwards, and they kissed, their foreheads touching, with dream-Jack tucking a small strand of dream-Joyce's hair in place.

A few moments later, the girl woke up, and the dream sand dissipated altogether.

* * *

Joyce woke to a view of golden shimmering air and – a pink sky.

She quickly sat up, noticing that she had been lying on a makeshift sand-bed, the sand sticking in her hair. And _flying_. She must be on Sandy's cloud.

A soft sifting sound told her that she was right. Without surprise, she turned to see Sandy on her right, waving to her. A thumbs-up, a "zzz" sign and a question mark appeared above him. _Did you sleep well?_

She nodded.

Then an arrow appeared over his head, pointing at her. _You._ A heart and a snowflake appeared over his head next. _You like Jack?_

Joyce blushed, and then smiled. "Ha-ha…you guessed it." She said.

Sandy smiled. Then he started writing in the air in front of him. Golden shimmering words appeared in front of him. I SAW YOU TWO KISS IN YOUR DREAM.

Joyce blushed harder. "Well…we really _were_ ice-skating then," she said, with a slightly shy tone. Her memories flew back to her dream, the two of them skating on and on forever, taking turns pulling each other around the lake, and kissing in the end. That had always been the best part—

Something sandy was pressed into her hand, snapping Joyce out of her reverie. Looking down, she saw that there was a sand figure in each of her hands, one made to be Jack, the other made to be herself. She looked to the Sandman inquiringly for an explanation of what these were, only to find him – going to work again. _Er,_ she thought. _Interrupting seems to be a bit too rude._

Then she noticed a shimmering list next to her, full of Sandy's writings:

 _How to use sand figures to communicate_

 _the nose of a figure to activate it. Once activated, the other figure will glow to notify the user to activate it for communication._

 _figures will expand to life size 1:1 to show the movements of the other person._

 _figures can be compressed…_

The list went on for ages, and Joyce wasn't really in the mood for reading the whole thing at all. She made a pocket in her left sleeve, compressed Jack's figure into it, and zipped the pocket, not leaking any sand. Then she walked over to Sandy, and said, "Thank you for the figures. They're really great."

And so, without another sound, she made a backflip into the shadow behind her, in the same time thinking of her destination: _to wherever Jack is._

* * *

The snowball hit Joyce. _Oops._

Jack had been playing in a snowball fight with some children, just when Joyce appeared out of the shadows. Well, it _was_ slightly creepy.

 _Just like Pitch._

Jack was terrified at the imagination his brain had. _Oh, shut up._ _All the Guardians have different powers, anyway. What's so much to be afraid of the ability to travel between shadows?_ He told himself.

He watched as Joyce walked up to him, smiling slightly. "Busy?" she asked. "I could come later,"

"Nah, I'm fine here. The kids don't see me anyway," the white-haired boy said.

"Your snowball just hit me. Is that what you call 'not busy' when your center is Fun? I thought making fun with snow was your responsibility."

Embarrassment struck the winter spirit, making him get uneasy all of a sudden. "Uh, not really," he said awkwardly, desperate to change the subject. "What were you here for, anyway?"

Joyce held up her hand. A shimmering golden figure of a girl stood neatly on her palm. "Wow," Jack breathed, "What is this?" he asked as he carefully took the figure from Joyce.

"You don't need to be so careful, the figure is compressible," she said. "Sandy gave this to me. This one is a replica of me and the other one is a replica of you. I took the other one."

 _This is_ so _cool_ , Jack thought, as he carefully poked the figure's nose. _And it's just so cute—_

The forearm part of Joyce's sleeve began to glow, and the view took Jack by his surprise. "Uh, what did I just do?" he asked.

The black haired girl chuckled. "These are for communicating, not playing. If you want to call for me, my figure will glow so that I will know that you are calling for me."

She unzipped her sleeve pocket, (Jack had no idea where it came from, but probably she just made it out of thin air) and sand began pouring out, stacking up, and becoming a sand-Jack Frost. At this point, the Joyce on his hand began to expand on its own, too; so Jack put it on the floor. By the time the figures stopped changing, they were already life-sized, and exactly the same as their portraited people.

"Aw, look at me," Joyce said as she admired her own image. The sand-Joyce said the same thing at the same time.

"And me," Jack said as he looked at his own sand figure. If this was really a real copy of him, he must be handsomer than he'd thought. _Look at my slim arms, and my clothes—they made me look so -_ professional—

"Do you know you do this out loud?" both sand-Joyce and the real Joyce giggled.

"Okay, this is getting quite annoying," Jack said as he blushed. He went forward and put his hand on the sand-Joyce's nose. Immediately, she shrank back to a small, harmless palm-sized figure.

As he watched, the other figure also shrank together, and in no time there were only two small golden figures on the snow-covered ground. Jack and Joyce picked up the figures, just as laughter sounded behind them.

""Want to join me in a snowball fight?" Jack asked as he felt his snowball-sense starting to rise again. It would all be just so much better if he could make a snowball fight with Joyce./

"Nah," the black haired girl said, as she swiped her hand over his left sleeve, producing an almost unnoticeable pocket. "Now press your figure into your pocket,"

Disappointment flooded Jack; but he, nevertheless, still quietly obeyed Joyce, and pressed on the sand figure. The sand spreaded out evenly in the pocket. Just before they started leaking, Joyce zipped the zipper up, and the sand disappeared from view.

She touched Jack's sleeve, smiling up at him (since she was kneeling on the floor). "So long, dearest," she said. And with that, she tilted herself backwards, and disappeared into her own shadows.

* * *

Joyce was desperately trying to find a destination. _Uh, to a place where no Guardian will find me._

When she felt solid ground under her feet again, she opened her eyes.

And a bright white world struck her. _Where_ is _this place?_ Looking around, she found only snowy mountains around her. _Ah, this must be the Antarctica_.

Strangely, she didn't feel the cold. Anyway, this was a good place to hide and think, and that was exactly what she needed. She found a small hole to sit in, sat down, and folded herself up. She wanted to think. About what to do.

She was a threat to everyone. She couldn't touch anyone, because her touch would kill. She couldn't think of anything to do in this world, where she didn't even belong. No one would want to know her, not to even mention touch her. The Guardians didn't really have much to do with her, and so she should better break it all off while she still could. Besides, she knew that she'd never really be in the hundred-year-old circle of the Guardians, so why bother trying to barge in? Of course, there was Jack, who was also new...but then, she thought she wouldn't even be ever taken seriously by him, since he was so handsome and so many other girls would like him.

 _Guess I'll just spend eternity here, then,_ she thought. _Making myself ash clothes. And killing seals and penguins._

Which proved to be more boring than she'd thought after three hours. She'd already tried making herself furry coats, party dresses, workout tracksuits, and even made an ash sculpture of a penguin. The sun was just halfway up, and she knew she'd still have to wait another large quarter of a year to see the sun set. _This is getting boring,_ she thought. Without noticing, her mind had begun going back to Jack again.

 _The way he moved – so elegant and light; the way his eyes brightened like someone had lit a torch inside the crystal blue every time he looked at her; and the way his hair made his cheekbones look – oh, God, just_ so _high—she just_ so _wanted to stroke his face-_

Her pearly-white hand wavered over the sleeve pocket on her left hand. _Just this once,_ she thought. _I'll just look at him. I won't try to find him_.

At this moment, the sand glowed.

The pearly-white hand now hesitated, strands of black hair jumping on and off. _But…I won't be able to hurt him anyway. This is just a sand figure._ She almost opened the pocket; she _wanted_ to open it –

 _No. Answering means letting them find me. Means risking to hurt them once more. No._

She moved her hand away, allowing the sand to glow on its own. After a few minutes, the light went out.

 _Maybe I should travel the world. After all, I have nothing to do._ And so, with the thought fixed in her mind, Joyce walked into the shadow of one of the icy mountains, thinking: _wherever I loved most in my past life._

But, somehow, she just found the darkness around her more comforting than any place. Maybe because she could imagine herself in Jack's arms as she fell down and down the shadows...

* * *

 **A/N: And that's the end of my small little chapter, though it took me most of my time to write it and edit it. If there was anything you think was missing or should've happened, just review and tell me. ;) I'll try to add it back in the later chapters. :D**


	3. Darkness

Joyce had gone to a lot of places. She'd gone to Rome and jumped off from the Leaning Tower of Pisa, travelling in between shadows. She'd seen the marvelous melting ice in the rivers and canals of New Zealand, stomped on most of the flowers in Versailles, and even shouted "I'M IN THE ARCTIC CIRCLE!" when she'd checked very carefully that the step she takes to walk out of her shadow would be exactly on the border of the Arctic Circle.

There were plenty of famous places still waiting for her to go to; yet she was feeling so hollow. Her heart felt like a main blood vessel was missing. Everywhere she went, no matter how she tried to forget, the memories of Jack still came floating back up her mind.

The jumping sensation on the Leaning Tower of Pisa resembled flying with Jack, so she went away. The melting cloud-like ice in New Zealand recalled memories of Jack's powers, so she went away. The blue and white flowers in Versailles resembled his white hair and his blue eyes, so she stomped on them before leaving. (That time in the Arctic Circle was just a small treat for herself.)

Now Joyce was back in the Antarctica again, where she continued with making ash sculptures of the world's animals, intentionally leaving out humans. Humans were too much of an influential species to touch.

"Joyce?" Jack's voice, without warning, suddenly rang up from behind. She froze as fear ignited like a fire in her, coursing through her every vein. _What in the name of Jesus Christ is he_ doing _here?_

Turning not without dread, she turned to see –

No one. No one was around. There was only white mist half-hovering in the air, and snow, reflecting the sunlight, too bright for even a shadow.

 _What was that?_ "Joyce!" Jack's voice rang up from the same direction again; but it wasn't full of worry: it was full of mischief, like he was hiding somewhere in the snow and was waiting to jump on her at the right moment.

She couldn't help but let a smile slip onto her cheeks, walking cautiously towards the origin of the voice. "Jack! Come out this instant!" she shouted into the snow, half-joking, half-readying herself for any danger.

She couldn't help but wonder why Jack was here; but nevertheless, she had to find him, explain it all clearly, and leave with a proper adieu. She couldn't just let Jack keep going in circles. That would make the Guardians worry about her instead.

"Joyce! I'm here~" she heard his voice again, seeming to be further away.

She dashed towards the voice's origin, being both longing to see him and dreading to see him. To see him would mean flying free, and skating and laughing all night long; but not seeing him would mean his safety, which seemed to be more important at the moment. And that was exactly why she wanted to see Jack: she just wanted to break it all off, and tell him to leave her alone.

The white mist cleared in front of her, revealing – a bare bed.

With a hole underneath it. _Well,_ she thought. _That was less than what I thought._ The bed didn't even have bedsheets: it was just a few broken wooden planks.

"Joyce!" Jack's voice came clearly from the hole below.

She decided to be more cautious. She picked up some snow, and threw them into the hole. No sound of the snow splashing into anything came up. The girl tried again with a penguin ash-doll that she'd conjured up. Again, no sound or echo came up. _That's strange._ She thought Jack would at least ask her why she was throwing snow and black penguins down onto him.

A curious interest sparked up. _Hm. This seems worth inspecting._ Without thinking about the distance she might have to travel and how in fact a jump that long may kill her, she jumped in, darkness happily engulfing her.

* * *

The fall didn't really last that long. Joyce stood on solid ground in less than two seconds. She looked up, trying to see where the hole she came from was. _Hm. No trace of the hole. This is getting very peculiar indeed._

She turned her attention back to looking at her surroundings. She stood on a half-circle platform, with a wall behind her, though she felt no reassurance. Empty birdcages hung on chains from above, with grey staircases leading to seemingly nowhere all around her. Sunshine came from above, though she had no idea where it came from. This whole place had a creepy sort of feeling to it, the walls a shadowy, mystic sort of grey, the birdcages darker than the darkest night.

Then, as an uncomfortable feeling started settling on her, the black-haired girl realised something: someone was watching her. And not just _any_ someone. It felt like…someone who could travel between shadows. Someone with a particularly bad intent. Thrice she had seen the slight flicker of a shadow of a man, tall and with spiky hair, moving away just slightly not in time.

"Hello, dear," a voice, cold and, somehow, fake, suddenly rang up from behind.

She turned quickly. There, the man whose shadow she'd seen three times. He wore a shirt that seemed to extend into a long sort of tunic, just slightly dragging on the ground. His nose was really long, though it kind of matched his high cheekbones and his unnaturally V-shaped chin and his grey skin and eyes. His smile looked so…plastered, like a thin veil covering the cruelty below.

"Decided to come here to thank me at last, haven't you?" the man said.

Joyce was baffled. "Thank you for what? We haven't even _met._ "

The man's smile evaporated quicker than water vapour. His eyes thinned into two fine slices of doubt. "You really don't remember?"

Joyce was even more confused. "Who _are_ you? I don't recall seeing you before at all."

The man's horrible acidic smile came back. "Oh, bother. I'll tell you now, then," He paced closer to Joyce.

"I am the one who created you. I am the one whom you cried for mercy at the last moment before your death, before you were supposed to die of drug abuse," the tall man's eyes twinkled, resembling the wicked look one usually unconsciously apply when thinking of ways to kill a bug in front of him. "In short, _I am your father._ "

Shock hit Joyce with more impact and force than she thought, like a giant fist of air. She staggered backwards, into the wall behind her. "I am your…what?"

The man moved towards her. "Daughter," he said, as his face began to fill with spite. "And you shall obey me; together, _we will rule the world_."

Joyce couldn't hold her confused rage back anymore. "What 'rule the world'? I'm not even _interested_ in the world," And, taking the chance of shocking the man, she dashed forward, and gripped the man's left hand.

Absolutely nothing happened.

The man laughed a horrible laugh. "That little ash trick doesn't work on me, my girl," he said. And with a harsh flick of his hand, he pulled Joyce off balance.

While she tried to regain her balance, he kicked her in the stomach, the imminent pain causing her fall to the floor as she clutched her stomach hard, her intestines protesting.

Despite the harsh pain in her, Joyce bravely tried to control it, and managed to claw her way through a few strips of the man's long tunic, before a knife materialized against her throat, making the black-haired girl freeze in the midst of her attempt to hurt the man.

"Lie down," the man commanded—though his voice was sweet and gentle—as the knife moved with his words. "Or I will find your head a very interesting ornament in decorating my home."

"It won't fit in," Joyce replied, although she _did_ have to admit, the knife was ever so intruding, and cutting just a small part of her throat, not enough to cause any serious damage, but enough to make her lie down obediently.

"Now," Joyce watched as the man flicked his hand ever so slightly, pressing the knife to the closest possible position before breaking her trachea. "Tell me that you will obey me and work for me, and I will, perhaps, spare you."

Joyce said nothing. Her expression was blank but her jaw was held tight, in a stubborn way.

"No? Well," the man said, as he suddenly lifted the knife, letting the searing blood ooze out of Joyce's throat. "That was probably the worst mistake you could've ever made in your life."

The black-haired girl was just a second too late to understand what this grey man was going to do.

And she understood, finally, when slashes of fire launched in her stomach, her forearms, her shoulders, burning with more pain than a bonfire could cause. She was too slow to wince: the next blow was always too quick for her.

The silver flashes kept cutting the black-haired girl, until she suddenly felt a leg positioned near the edge of her left lung.

The time she understood.

She closed her eyes.

And waited.

Although the wounds were scorching, burning away her precious energy to roll away and save herself, she kept her eyes firmly shut; she wanted to keep her sight from all horrors that she knew she would have to face sooner or later. She wanted to live in her momentary peace.

The man kicked in, so hard that Joyce could hear her lower left ribs snap apart with a dull _crack._

The pain was clear and sharp, worse than a thousand glass pieces dragging its way through her whole body.

But that wasn't the end of this horrible nightmare: she felt more and more kicks, some from her left and some from her right, striking at the same time as her abuser spoke.

"You – are – my – daughter – and – you – will – obey –" she heard him shout, one word matching one kick, until the last one, where he stood on her right hand's wrist, pressing down with all the forces of the universe and cracking her bone – before hissing, "Me."

Her second broken bone jerked the black-haired girl, originally going to fall into a coma, awake once more. She tried to take in more air, but her burning lungs choked her, and all she could do was watch in horror as she saw the man come up to her and cut a deep slash across her palm, holding out a bottle to collect as the slick black blood gurgled out.

In addition to that, when the blood flow started to slow down, the man took up her hand, and squeezed her hand to get more blood, twisting and pushing and pulling her flesh. Joyce had to fight the instinct to scream or gasp in pain—which was very hard to do so—as it would hurt her broken ribs even more.

By the time he was finished, Joyce was already half-drenched in her own blood, caused by the numerous small thin slashes across her whole body. Her lungs were protesting and telling her to breath in more air; but her ribs were opposing and burning, and therefore not helping with clearing the fog in her head at all.

Suddenly, the man's voice interrupted her thoughts about her wounds. "My name is Pitch. Pitch Black. Some call me the Boogeyman, while those who fear me call me Master. But of course, you can also choose to call me Father." Seeing the lack of response from his child, he dug one of his legs into her broken ribs, making the pain flare up more quickly than anything, searing and killing. The black-haired girl couldn't help but gasp—resulting in another, even worse, wave of pain.

The man chuckled slightly, releasing his foot but keeping his hand held on to his daughter's cut palm as he knelt down. "I am Fear, while you are Death, my girl," he said, his voice soft, like how one might lure babies to sleep. "You see this bottle?"—He held up his spare hand—"This will never run out, and as long as I drink from it, I will be able to tie myself up as a part of your soul. Isn't this just the _best_ way for a parent to monitor his _only_ child?"

Seeing that his daughter was falling into a coma once more, he kicked out once again, harder and more brutally than anything into her broken ribs, and she jerked awake once more, slightly panting. Fear wasted no time: he grabbed the thick black hair by its roots, and shoved the girl up against a wall, drinking big, thirsty, longing gulps of her blood while forcing her to watch.

"And one day, I will let you know how 'wonderful' it would feel like to disobey me, too," this time, he allowed his girl to slip into a coma, but not before he hissed the last of his words, his voice soft as a cat: "this is just a piece of cake, not a punishment at all."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you to all those who read my past chapters, and I hope you also like this chapter! (Really really sorry to my main character Joyce for suffering so much) It is my deepest regret to say that my school's second term has started, and my homework is sttarting to pile up. It'll be a long time before I could be on FanFiction :( I'll try my best to get on FanFiction if I could squeeze some precious time out before or in my Easter holidays. But if I can't, then it would be summer before I'm gonna be active here once more :(**

 **Really sorry guys :(**

 **(But anyway I still hope you'll like this chapter and be patient enough to wait ;)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Rise of the Guardians)**


	4. The Hospital I

**A/N: So lucky that I got to finish this chapter :D I hope you guys would enjoy it, though it might look boring. It's a lot of important explanations! And of course the part when Joyce and Jack gets back together. ;D**

 **Do favourite and follow when you've finished! All your your favourites and follows mean a lot to me and are the motivations for me to go on :) And of course review and tell me what I'm not doing right, or tell me what you want to next! All your opinions matter.**

 **As usual, I do not own The Rise of the Guardians.**

* * *

Jack was beginning to panic.

Joyce had vanished for over a week already, and although he'd already contacted the Guardians and told them to look out for Joyce, he was still very much worried about her. After all, she had been _his_ responsibility right from the beginning, not the others.

He was now hiding out in one of those frozen-year-round forests in Canada, waiting for autumn in the Northern Hemisphere to be over. (That was still three weeks away) As he walked around, balancing on his favourite electric wires, he casually froze some trees and grass, not bothering if anyone would see him at all. There were only trees around, and they all looked identical, so it shouldn't be easy for anyone to find their way to him. Besides, he was invisible to many people anyway.

A sudden sliver sounded behind him.

The winter spirit tensed all over, immediately alert. Who would possibly be there? No human being could ever walk with so little noise; and so the only possible explanation was – " _Jack!_ "

Joyce.

As the winter spirit turned around, relief washed over him, and he heaved out a long-held breath: he hadn't even been conscious of his heartache for Joyce.

For a moment all that echoed in his mind was _Joyce. Joyce. Joyce._ He wanted to hug her, to run his fingers through the hair that he'd missed so much.

He had planned and imagined over and over again how he would be kissing and hugging Joyce when he saw her again, how he would be smiling and she would finally be safe for him to touch. But now, to his own surprise, all he felt was – a drop of tears on his palm.

He felt his jaw drop – another tear – and another, and another, until the winter spirit could no longer see anything clearly in front of himself, until Joyce's jet-black hair melted with the white trees around him, with the blurring shadows of his own eyes.

Some time ago he must've dropped to his knees, for now he felt Joyce's arms around his head, together with slight stings – she must had been crying, too – and the white-haired boy remained in his position, his mind still ringing _Joyce. Joyce. Joyce._ It seemed like an hour had passed before he finally started to recollect himself.

He slowly detached himself from Joyce before asking, his voice softer than a cat, "Why did you go away?"

There were so many more questions that he wanted to ask: _Why didn't you answer my call? What have you been doing all this time?_ But then he decided that it would be too much for Joyce to answer at once.

A very long silence. Then, in a very low voice, she said, "I…I was captured by Pitch. He…hurt me and – and he took…no, _drank_ my blood. I think I passed out for maybe a few days there. Then I simply travelled through the shadows and escaped to here,"

The black-haired girl suddenly grabbed Jack's sleeve. "Jack, we have to get to get to North," her eyes, still filled with tears, were now full of fear and warning; but they also contained determination. "Pitch is going to control me, and I won't know when. I might just destroy the world within a second."

Jack was, of course, surprised by this information, but he, nevertheless, obeyed Joyce, picking up his staff and launching into the sky immediately. "We need to warn the Guardians," she continued.

Jack nodded, obliging without a word. They linked arms, and flew together in silence for a short time before Joyce broke it.

She must had been thinking about her past, for she suddenly said, "Jack, I'm scared."

Her voice was not much more than a whisper, but despite the howling wind, Jack heard her, and he slowed into an immediate stop in midair, placing his hand on her shoulder, and putting on his most reassuring look. "Hey, it's going to be fine, okay?"

Joyce had her head hung low, her shoulders slumping, leaning heavily on Jack's hand. "You know what? Vergil once said, in his story about Aeneas, 'Easy is the Descent into Hell.'" The black-haired girl turned her gaze back to Jack, despair clearly etched in her eyes. "If it feels easy now, then we're falling into Pitch's trap. He won't ever let me run away so easily. Something bad's gonna happen…I could feel it…" she said, her voice diminishing as the despair in eyes increased deepened.

Jack could feel his heart sinking down into the Earth's crust, but he still tried his best to look promising, and said, "Look, let's get to North's before we try to solve any problem, okay? He might know more about how to deal with your case. Besides, we're flying, not descending, so don't you even worry about Hell."

Jack could just see a hint of a smile as Joyce linked arms with him again.

* * *

North, as always, had been very welcoming. With Joyce explaining the whole situation to him, he called the Guardians without another moment of hesitation.

In the mean time, Joyce began examining her right wrist, which made Jack curious. "Why are you looking at your wrist like that? Is it hurt?" he asked.

Seeing that she did not respond, Jack very gently took up Joyce's arm to look at her wrist, when her sleeve went sliding upwards, revealing her forearm.

The sheer number of scars and wounds already made Jack jump backwards (without knowing) and gasp. How could she have done so much without looking the slightest bit hurt? The wounds had, of course, been half-healed, but they still had blood crusted on them! _Jesus Christ, that must've been a hard time for her at Pitch's Lair._

With a slight pressure on his shoulders, he felt the black-haired girl leaning her head on him, careful to only touch his ash-shirt so that she won't hurt him while she cried.

At this moment, Tooth flew in, and, seeing the teens, she rushed towards them without hesitation, and started bombing concerned questions on the two of them. Jack was, of course, glad for her motherly presence, but he, nevertheless, only motioned (moving the least he could) for Tooth to stand back, and let Joyce cry on his shoulders for a few more minutes, before gently detaching her right hand from his shoulder, careful to only touch her sleeve.

The black-haired girl recollected herself, and sniffed back her last few drops of tears before facing Tooth.

Tooth, seeing that Joyce had recovered from her sobs already, asked, very gently, "What's wrong, Joyce?"

At this key moment, Bunny and Sandy both entered. Seeing that Joyce was looking very much upset, they, too, didn't have to hesitate before rushing to her side immediately.

She retold her story at Pitch's Lair, telling the Guardians how she had been treated there. From her story, Jack learned about where her wounds came from, and just when she was telling them why Pitch wanted her blood, North suddenly interrupted. "But why were you alone in the first place? Shouldn't Jack have been with you?"

"I…I ran away."

"Why?"

A short pause. Then, a sigh. "Ever since the moment I killed that elf, I've learnt that I'm a threat to everyone I know, and love. Don't you all see?" – she touched an elf passing by, turning its flesh to ashes – "I will kill you if any of you touched my bare skin! I knew from that moment that I don't belong with you all. I'm sorry, but –"

They would never find out what Joyce had been about to say, for at that moment, under the gaze of everyone, her eyes rolled up to her head, and she fell to the floor.

Jack spoke before he realised, with more emotion than he'd expected. "Joyce!"

As his body ran ahead of his mind, towards the black-haired girl, the girl rose once more, standing back up as if nothing had happened. Jack, surprised, stopped himself just in time before banging head-long into the black-haired girl. "Joyce?" he whispered.

Her eyes were still blank and completely white. She smiled, but it wasn't her warm smile: it was Pitch's sickly fake smile. She spoke, but it wasn't in her own voice:

It was in Pitch's voice.

"Hello, dear old friends," His false sweet voice echoed around North's workshop. "Do you guys like my girl? Charming, isn't she?"

He started walking around, giving Joyce the cunning kind of ease that she'd never possessed. The Guardians all stood firmly, alerted, their signature weapons in place in a second.

Pitch turned, and a slight frown formed on his face, before he chuckled and shook his head. "All this fuss over me, and I'm not even exactly here,"

Bunny interrupted with his temper clearly flaring up to cover his fear. "What 'not here'? You're certainly here. You're speaking in your own voice."

"Aw, look how naïve you are!" Joyce's face displayed Pitch's pitying smile. "Didn't my daughter tell you? I created her, and she submitted to me. She _allowed_ me to take her blood and be free to monitor her at any time."

Seeing the Guardians' wary expressions, he frowned slightly, but nevertheless continued: " _Well_ , since things seemed to have gone slightly out of hand, I decided to…ah, _take over_."

If Jack and the others hadn't heard Joyce's story before Pitch took over, they would've believed him totally.

But they _had_ heard her story. Therefore-

"Liar!" Tooth shrill voice rang out suddenly, clear and sharp. "We heard her. You took her blood and broke her bones. You couldn't even dare to take her blood without weakening her. And now you can't cope with the fear of the truth coming out. The only thing that you are, is a **_CO-WARD_**!"

A long silence descended as Tooth's voice and Pitch's shock echoed around the workshop in ripples.

Then he recovered from his shock, and his - Joyce's - face screwed up with anger and spite. He said, "I will ensure my daughter destroys you all," – he pointed to North, his voice getting soften than a whisper – "starting from – _YOU_."

Then his spirit left Joyce, for at that moment her eyes rolled back in place, and she fell onto the floor once more, staying motionless.

"Joyce!" Everyone chorused unconsciously as they dashed forwards, checking for a pulse, or a breath. But before Bunny could announce if she had a pulse, or North could announce if she was still breathing, Sandy hushed them all with a quick sign.

They all heard a voice going around them, its source moving, as if its owner was still present. Well, maybe he was. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought the Guardians were capable of _aaaaaanything._ Too bad, this time you wont be capable of saving my girl."

The angry Easter Bunny immediately jumped up, his boomerang in hand. "Turn her back or I'll kill ya!"

The voice chuckled. "I'm not even here, silly. How could you kill me if I'm not really here?"

Silence was the only reply as Bunny tried to think of an answer. "Well – I'll – kill your daughter!"

"I'd like to see you try," Pitch's amused voice said. After a period of silence, he continued, "Now. I _will_ tell you how to wake up my daughter, _if -_ "

Everyone held their breaths.

" _If,_ you let me take over the world."

The Guardians' reactions were imminent. Jack felt his rage flare up, and he shot a freezing bolt towards the origin, but very certainly missed. The Boogeyman laughed, his voice going around them. "Now, now, now, I don't have only _one_ choice,"

"Well, what's the other, then?" Bunny interrupted.

Pitch would have been glaring at him if his body had been present. " _Let me finish._ The other choice, is that – " he took a deep breath, clearly heard by all the Guardians " – you give up my daughter to me after waking her. After that, it's a _Guardian_ every five years. What do you think, guys?"

Silence wrapped around the Guardians as they took the bargain in. "Well, what if we don't agree to any of the choices? It's not like we just hand over our power to anyone every day." Bunny replied, the anger starting to slip from his voice, showing a hint of his fear below.

A chuckle sounded from Pitch once more. "Do you remember them?" he said, as neighs sounded outside the workshop, covering most of the windows with darkness.

Soon enough, the lights on the Globe became part of the left over illuminations of the workshop.

 _Nightmares. They're going to destroy us like how they did four years ago if we do not comply._ Jack thought as he turned with the Guardians to look at the windows. He turned back, exchanging worried glances with the other Immortals. Just when he was going to say something to defend the Guardians, Pitch started talking again.

"Now, now, now, I won't hurt you with them." – a finger-snap sounded, and the horses were gone once more – "I'll let you... _sleep on_ that for another hour first." – His voice filled with malice – "but for now, since your precious Jack so wants to save his loooove, I will tell you what to do. As for the decision to do it or not, it is out of my control."

Everyone turned to look at Jack. And although their gazes were purely curious and innocent questions like _Really? You like the new Immortal?_ he nevertheless still felt a great pressure from them, and he lowered his gaze to the ground as his cheeks went burning red-hot.

"Take my daughter to a hospital. Stop as near it as possible, and she will wake up."

"Wait," Tooth shouted at the top of her voice. "Why? Why do you have to take over the world? Why make us suffer while you can just kill us all?"

The Guardians heard a chortle before the voice slowly diminished, "I like to watch you," the last word was held, but it resounded around the workshop longer than any other words. " _dance."_ It slid all around like the sliver of a snake, making your spine cold as ice.

And, somehow, the Guardians felt Fear leave. Perhaps it was a slight breeze. Or a pressure lifted off their hearts. Anyway, the Boogeyman was gone now.

They all heaved out a slight sigh, before quickly noticing the black-haired girl still lying on the floor.

"Jack?" North said.

* * *

After a short fifteen minutes, Jack was already carrying Joyce and, unfortunately, Bunny with him. He'd pointed out to North that it wasn't important, and that he would be able to defend himself with his staff anyway. "What if you're outnumbered?" North had said, and had pushed Bunny to fly with him in less than a second.

And so that was how, now, Jack was stuck with the moody Mr. Easter Bunny, who was currently trying very much to avoid throwing up or looking at the floor. (and was hopelessly failing)

"North really should've told Sandy to come with me," Jack grumbled to himself as he tried to not let Bunny fall off his arm while he carried Joyce bridal style _and_ at the same time held his staff.

"A-a-a-are w-w-w-we th-there y-y-yet?" Bunny asked, as he tightened his hold.

Jack looked down, checking his surroundings. Right below his feet, there were still only trees, but a town was visible within a hundred meters' distance. _Ah,_ he thought. _Now_ that's _where I'm gonna land._

"Hold on," he said, as he urged the whistling wind to increase their speed. "We're almost there!"

"Oh-h-h-h, God, I knew I shouldn't have agreed to come just to look a-a-at y-y-your g-g-girlfriend." The Easter Bunny managed to stammer, before the sight of the trees flying past below them made he him stop again.

Jack almost halted, laughter bursting out of him. "You came to – what?! I can't believe you still have that ridiculous crush on her,"

Bunny's face turned red as his green eyes became wary. If he wasn't surely holding back his throat to _not_ puke, he would have said some horrible retort back, the ones that Tooth always sent disapproving looks at.

The landscape below became gray and white.

It was a lucky thing that Jack noticed the building below him. He halted immediately, his staff and Joyce in his arms, while the unfortunate Bunny was accidentally flung forward about half a metre.

The rabbit slowly tried to stand up with his shaky limbs. Halfway through, he said, "You – are the worst—"

His voice was cut short when he finally couldn't hold back. On the ground, he threw up, until he was retching out the very last bit of his puke.

It was _orange in colour._

"Blarghhhh," Jack said, as soon as he had cautiously stepped back into the safe range. "Oh, man, _exactly_ _how many_ carrots have you eaten?" he exclaimed with disgust.

Bunny retched the last bit of the orange half-substantial food out. Then he said as he stood up, "Around – thirty,"

He stumbled, almost falling back into his puked food. Without hesitation, Jack's hand shot out, just slightly, but enough to save Bunny from becoming orange. The heavy rabbit made Jack's thin arms barely able to manage the weight, but he soon flopped back up on his own, and Jack was saved the risk of dropping Joyce onto the orange puke.

"Thanks, mate," The rabbit mumbled, as he stood straight (finally) and Jack gently laid Joyce onto the ground(far from the orange substances). He was sparing a lot of care to not touch the black-haired girl, so he didn't notice her breath rate going back to normal slowly again. Nor did Bunny, who was checking over his fur.

A gasp sounded suddenly from Joyce.

Her eyes were open.

Jack was next to her in a moment, his hand touching her sleeve, telling her that she was fine, that she was safe now. He could even hear Bunny turning and watching them close, waiting to see if any help was required.

But Joyce? Joyce was obviously _not_ fine. As soon as she saw the winter spirit, her eyes started to well up, and soon enough she was covering her eyes, crying into her hands so hard that for a moment Jack cursed himself for not touching Joyce, for not brushing away her tears.

He felt himself sliding his hands behind Joyce's back and helping her sit up.

Then what she did took him by surprise.

She put her arms around Jack, crying into his shoulder. She did not care if her tear-stricken face or hands burned him or not, did not care if her rolled up sleeve, showing her bare arm, had turned Jack to ashes at all. And if Jack had noticed, he would have been _very_ surprised indeed to see that nothing had happened.

After a long while of crying, Joyce finally picked herself up. She very slowly stopped her tears, then took many deep breaths before her sobbing became normal breathing. She released Jack, and waited for some more time before speaking.

"Joyce," Jack said, as gently as possible, next to her. "What's wrong?"

The black-haired girl gave herself maximum control over her emotions. "I – " she took another shaky breath. Jack could see her trying not to break down, to finish what she had to say first _._

But what she said almost made his groundings shake as well.

"I think I just killed everyone inside the hospital."

* * *

 **A/N: Cliffhanger! Hope you enjoyed this chapter :) As mentioned, do please favourite, follow and review. ;) All your opinions MATTER!**


	5. The Hospital II

**A/N: Can't believe I actually finished this chapter even with my workload :DDD The work is stacking higher and higher up, so I guess this really would be my last chapter before the summer holidays. Maybe one in late June.**

 **Anyway, I do hope you would enjoy this chapter! As usual, favourite, follow, and review.**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own the Rise of the Guardians)**

* * *

The desert gleamed below Joyce's feet, reflecting the perfect full moon's light. The sky was a dark and peaceful blue, making Joyce want to stroll with Jack. _If only he was here,_ she thought.

The peace continued as Joyce walked on at a casual pace, enjoying the view. Her heart was strangely calm and at ease, not with even the slightest shadow of fear. She had nothing to worry about, nothing to be sad about, except maybe the fact that Jack was not here to enjoy the view with her.

Until a slight figure came into sight.

A man, once strong, lay at the base of a sand dune. His clothes were ragged, and his whole body was covered in sand and filth. He was obviously dying of dehydration. His bones were jutting out cruelly and sharply, his flesh as thin as paper around the bones.

However, Joyce, despite seeing his state, felt that his soul was glowing, drawing her closer. She cautiously stepped closer to the man, her footsteps muted by the sand.

 _Hello_ , she heard herself start to say, though she was very sure that her lips hadn't moved at all. _Are you all right, sir? Do you need any help?_

 _No._ His soul replied both questions calm and peacefully. _I know that I am dying of dehydration, and I know that I will be leaving this world soon enough. But I do not fear leaving it. I just want peace._

Joyce was slightly taken aback, both by the fact that she could talk without moving her lips, and the fact that the man was not afraid. Most people feared death, fearing the unknown, always loving stable things. No challenges, no changes. But this man, he was so... _ready_. As if he'd already known fully what would be awaiting him when he died.

Her body somehow knew exactly what to do. Suddenly there was an olive branch—the kind that white pigeons carried to symbolize peace—in her hand. She was a bit surprised by her own body's actions, but she nevertheless obeyed her body's actions, and observed while wondering what would be happening next.

She heard herself say, _I am here to let your soul rest. In other words, I am Death._

The man looked even more at peace. _Good. Then take my soul whenever you are ready. I am ready._

The black-haired girl felt her body ready to take in a deep breath. _Okay. So this is how it feels. To be going to collect souls. I can't believe I'm actually doing this._

However, Her heart suddenly clenched herself tight, fear going through it again. _Wait. What if this all goes wrong? What if the man dies in agony?_ Her mind froze her actions, and she would almost had let her fear grow, if a hand hadn't touched her softly on her arm:

 _Jack's hand._

The white-haired boy said nothing when the black-haired girl looked at him, only smiling reassuringly and encouragingly, as if to say, _This will all be fine. Don't worry. Just take his soul. Nothing is going to happen._

At that moment, the uncertainty of Joyce and the confidence Jack radiated clashed together, the positive encouragements obviously winning. The black-haired girl's brown eyes relaxed, and she closed her eyes, ready to take in a deep breath and take the dying man's soul. _Right._ She said to the man, _Here we go._

 _Okay._

But it all went wrong.

She felt it the moment she took her breath which was supposed to take only his soul.

All had gone wrong.

She gasped instead of taking in a deep breath, and the impact was easy enough to be observed by anyone. She felt more than one soul— _many_ souls, _too many_ souls—being sucked in by her.

After that, all she could feel was a lifeless body—not the dead man on the edge of the sand dune—slumping against her.

 _No._

She didn't need to turn to know who it was.

She could already picture the dull silver hair, the eyes without a focus, without a light behind them. The eyes wide with shock, conveying the silent message, _why do you kill me?_

 _No, no, no._

Tears burned behind her eyes, blurring her vision as she tried to turn and hug the white-haired boy one last time, to say good-bye, at least.

But no matter how hard she grabbed on to the lifeless body, it kept sliding away from her, and she was falling, and the sand was disappearing; the dead man by the sand dune, her outstretched hands, the peaceful blue sky… everything disappeared.

All was gone.

* * *

"Joyce!"

Her eyes slowly adjusted slowly to the light above her. The silvery hair. The clear blue eyes. _Whose were those again?_

Then her memories hit her. Relief washed over the girl together with grief, reality mixing with nightmares. She felt herself crying, her tears falling uncontrollably, while her whole body just seemed to be frozen in place.

Somehow her hands had gone up to cover her tears. She liked it that way. That way, she wouldn't have to face the world, not even the sunlight, just the shadow made by her own hands.

Then as she felt two hands on her back, helping her to sit up, the black-haired girl felt as if her mind was finally starting to work again. _Jack's alive. He's alive. I don't have to grieve for him._

The relief that told her that this was not a dream, this was reality, made her hug Jack tight around his neck, taking him by surprise. She felt him stiffing for at least half a minute, before hesitantly leaning into her, returning the hug.

She took her time to pick herself up. By the time she'd calmed down, there was already a huge wet swat on his black shirt, and if the shirt hadn't been made by her, it would certainly had corrupted to nothingness.

The black-haired girl was calming down a lot, when, out of nothing, a thing suddenly lit up her mind. _The souls I'd sucked in._

Guilt grabbed at her, almost strangling her, but the black-haired girl had enough power to steady herself. She shivered, but was quick enough to recover. "I – "She took her last calming breath. Her maximum control over her instincts was working, growing by the second. "I think I just killed everyone in the hospital." She said, finally.

It was lucky for her to have thought about the reaction of the audience, for when her words hit her companions, all their faces looked like their hearts had dropped to the Earth's crust. For example, Jack's face changed in a second, his hopeful expression became care and concern in a blink. "What happened?" he asked.

But Joyce was only half-listening. Her mind was back at North's workshop, where she'd witnessed herself say all those horrible things. She had heard all the words of Pitch while her own soul struggled to be free, trying very hard but not making any impact. At least, until he went out from her, in which case she could only remember everything crashing to her, and then that horrible desert dream started.

"Joyce?" Jack's repeated question anchored her firmly in reality; the previous visions all faded away.

"I – I felt myself suck in a lot of souls—at least a hundred. We—we should probably check the building below." The black-haired girl explained as she struggled to stand up; her mind was somehow always working slower in reality.

"I – let me help you," Jack began, but by the time he finished speaking, Joyce was already standing firmly on her feet.

A familiar Australian accent rang up form behind. "Er, why are we not dead, then?"

Joyce turned to see Bunny standing behind her, her mind blank, not ready with an answer. "I guess…just…maybe you had a lucky escape." She said, and tried to conjure up her best smile. Seriously, no one knew the answer, but they all seemed to have reached a silent agreement, that they would accept this as a version of the truth, at least temporarily.

Then they went down the building's stairs together, silently.

* * *

The label wrote "SHARED ROOM NUMBER 37659", and that was where Jack and the others discovered what had happened.

The patients lay in their beds, dead. The nurses and doctors were all crumpled on the floor, their lives gone. All the machines and equipment were responding normally, but their users were long gone already. Jack was struck by this scene, shock echoing around his head like a gong being banged on. That made him almost trip over Joyce, who had long ago started crying on the floor.

He knelt down gently on the right side of the black-haired girl, while Bunny was on her left. Either way, Joyce didn't seem to notice them, just curling into a ball on herself, and crying onto her own dress.

"Psst!" Bunny whispered urgently to Jack. "Why aren't you wiping away her tears?"

Jack almost rolled his eyes at the rabbit if he hadn't known better. " _Because_ , she cries pure acid! It would burn away anything not made by her." He whispered back. "But my shirt's made by her, so I guess it's okay for me to touch her."

The rabbit nodded a silent agreement (or maybe it was a permission), and so Jack set to work.

He first detached Joyce's hands around her, slowly placing them around his forearms instead. He carefully shuffled closer, and then he took the black-haired girl completely into his arms, cradling her head in his shoulder. She was neither warm nor cold, but maybe the dress had insulated her heat.

She was so close that Jack could feel her every breath, his hands going unconsciously to her hair, stroking it soothingly while his mouth formed calming words, promising safety and peace. She didn't seem to be crying much any longer, but she _did_ seem to have quite a breath-hitching problem.

Because it was Joyce who discovered it before Jack.

"Jack?" she whispered, her voice soft as a cat, her breath going in shaky waves on his cheek. "Hey," Although she was still crying, he could swear that there was a hint of contained happiness in it. _There's definitely something that she wants to tell me._ " _You're touching me._ " She said, and pulled away, a nervous grin slowly spreading over her face as she blushed.

 _Touching. Wait, touching…?!_ He could swear that his face went from a confused idiot to an overjoyed idiot. The dumbfound thoughts still in him a few seconds ago had evaporated, to be replaced by surprise and hope coursing through him, his eyelids almost glowing when he closed them. Bunny was asking him what had happened, if he should be helping, but all Jack could hear was _I can touch her. I can touch her._ It seemed so impossible, yet somehow so real that he allowed it to bounce all through him.

 _I can touch her. I can touch her._

His face felt damp, and it was a few moments before he'd noticed that his vision was blurred, that he was crying with Joyce together. But it didn't matter anymore. All that mattered were the words that still crazily went around his head.

 _I can touch her._

He didn't know who moved forward first—it was all blurred images for him—but soon enough they were kissing. It was a gentle kiss at the first moment, a play of the lips, as if to check that this was real.

Once they were sure this was actually real, it turned fiercer and fiercer by the second, their lips parting each other's, their tongues exploring each other's mouth. The black-haired girl put her hand in the white snowy hair, running her hand through them like she could never get enough of it. And he had to admit, although she was almost pulling his hair off their roots, it was strangely sweet to have her pull at his hair with that much force.

And if he'd noticed, he would've heard himself making a low purr deep in his throat every time the slim fingers ran through the perfect white hair.

She tasted like burning, a roaring passionate fire, and also like…olive?

But why not olive. Somehow it added a more… _seasoned_ taste to the whole situation, and Jack was just like Joyce – he just couldn't get enough of it.

His hands would've long been exploring her body if Bunny hadn't been present: but since he _was_ present, all the winter spirit could do was to hold on to Joyce's small pale face, feeling the most movement that he could.

His thumbs brushed her high cheekbones, and where his fingers had touched, he kissed on the path, and then down her throat, when suddenly everything slid away. He could hear a strangled voice in his throat as he fell, making Joyce laugh.

He almost thought he had somehow wakened from a dream. But it was actually just Joyce slipping down to the floor, her hands—tangled in his hair—following together.

According to people that he had observed over the years, when someone does something really pleasant, your body would loose strength, and you roll on the floor together. He guessed that was what had just happened to Joyce, and a grin just couldn't help breaking out as he continued to kiss down her neck and the pulse jumping at her throat. He totally loved the giggles that came from Joyce whenever he kissed her –

"Look, its still acceptable if you're kissing, but – seriously? The noises are _horrible_ ," Bunny suddenly said, out of nothing, breaking the two apart.

A mischievous thought made the white-haired boy grin. "So you wanna try, huh?"

" _Ew_ ," Bunny said as he turned around, thoroughly disgusted. He blanched a bit, before saying, "Never mind. Just… argh, go on."

Jack looked at Joyce, the two of them grinning madly from ear to ear. Her face was flushed, her eyes twinkling more than that time at the lake. Then she started giggling. "Your hair's a _mess,_ "

"Thanks to you," He retorted with a laugh, as she kissed him again, lightly this time, just to rumple his hair more.

"So," he said when they parted, "What's on with the ash thing? How come I could touch you?"

"I don't know," Joyce admitted, as she touched a flower on a bedside table. It crumpled to black dust. "But…I guess it's just…lucky escape?"

"I totally doubt it," he answered, but grinned nevertheless, as she didn't look so sad this time. He didn't realize until now how important it was for Joyce to look and feel happy in order for him to feel happy, too.

And now, he was finally happy.

* * *

Joyce was – well – overjoyed. She'd never thought she could ever kiss Jack—she knew he would turn to ashes—but he nevertheless tasted great, so who cares?

Of course, the unknown answer of why she could touch Jack was something that would always get her uneasy, but for the moment, she'd decided to stay in the pleasant reverie of the kiss rather than to just bath in sadness and keep blaming herself.

His lips were remarkably soft, tasting like freshly fallen snow—the cute and gentle kind—and his hair, _oh, his hair_. She'd always wanted to run a hand through his hair, to experience how those silvery lines would feel like. And now that she'd had the chance, of course she hadn't miss it.

And it felt wonderful! His hair was smooth and soft, just like the snow she'd tasted in his mouth. It even _felt_ cool. And when he kissed along her cheekbones and her neck, her pulse…well, it was just better than words.

If you've ever waved a torch in front of you very quickly, then it would seem as if it left a glowing line in the night, a trick in the eye's memory. And Jack's kisses were just like that line when he kissed her, tracing tiny ice-burn like tracks on her skin. Even now, when she was thinking back, she could still feel the line vividly on her right cheek, a graceful and pleasant line.

When she'd slipped, Joyce had never felt more embarrassed. But when Jack made that funny surprised squeak, she just couldn't help but laugh. And when he grinned as he continued, she knew that he hadn't cared.

"So what do we do now?" Bunny asked realistically, pulling both teenage-looking Immortals suddenly back to the hospital under their feet. "You wake up, the hospital's workers and patients all die, _and you kiss._ Very good work, haha," he said, sarcasm clear in his voice.

Anger flaring in the black-haired girl. She suddenly wanted very much to punch Bunny in the face.

But she held it all back, and said, as calmly as possible, the words that she'd had in her mind already: " _Now,_ we go back to the Pole and tell North what's just happened."

Bunny seemed a bit disgusted. "Even the kissing part too?"

"Look, as long as you don't tell him about our kiss, I won't tell him about your vomit." Jack said, his grin still spreading across his face. "Deal?"

"Wait, what vomit? I want to see it," Joyce chipped in as she laughed hysterics with the white-haired boy next to her.

Bunny was trying very much not to join in.

"Come on, I'll show you." Jack said as he led the way back up the rooftop. "but only if you don't laugh," he added after a thought, grinning his mischievous grin once more.

* * *

 **A/N: No matter that was great or not, please do review! It can be about practically anything, whether you think I wrote trash or if you think it could never be better, just write a review and tell me! Again, every single** **one of your opinions MATTER.** **;D**


	6. The Workshop of Wonder

**A/N: Hello sorry for taking so long after the** **exams, but i didn't write anything extra before the exams. I hope this new chapter would be good enough to compensate for all that waiting. Enjoy! :)**

 **As usual, please follow and review. I really want to know all your opinions as it helps me to improve a lot. ;)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Rise of the Guardians**

* * *

The three Guardians entered North's workshop, chatting and laughing, as Joyce went over to hug North and Tooth. They were surprised at first, knowing that her powers might kill them, but since nothing happened, they returned the hugs with the same degree of happiness.

"Okay, what happened out there?" North said, as he looked Joyce up and down, his hands on his hips. "You look pretty much refreshed."

"Well…"Jack began.

"I woke up soon after we landed," Joyce interrupted, the words somehow tumbling out of her mouth. "I think I just…seemed to gasp very loudly, but I…felt myself sucking in lives," she paused, the gutted feeling rising again in her throat.

Jack took over, as Joyce slowly took her breath back. "She woke up crying, and she told us that she had…you know, just done that…thing."

"It was awful!" Her voice somehow came out in a furious yell at Jack. She knew there was no reason for her to shout, but she didn't care. "Do you know what I saw when I was in that coma? I saw you being killed by me!" The last few words rose to a scream, as Jack's eyes widened with shock. She felt her eyes watering again as she continued speaking. "I was so happy to see him again, but the shock of realizing my powers was just devastating. So…I brought them downstairs to prove it," Her tears were now streaming down her cheek. _Stupid tears,_ she thought. "I saw all of those people dead…do you guys even _know_ how hard it is to bear the thought that you've got so many people's blood on your hands? How many lives I'd ruined?"

Her voice ringed around the silent corridors, but she still continued, speaking through the acid that she had cried. "But then I found that my touch doesn't take everyone's life," At that, she saw Jack's head whipping upwards, a gleam of hope in his eyes. "And that was – "

She never got to finish the sentence. The floor seemed to had literally vanished from under her legs, and she was falling, falling, her hair whipping for a momentum in front of her before her legs hit solid ground again.

"Hey, you okay there?" North shouted from the floor above, now a small hole at least four feet away.

"Yeah, I'm okay!" Joyce shouted back.

"I think the floor has some problems," North shouted to her again. "I'll find the yetis to fix it later."

"Okay!" Joyce shouted upwards.

 _Nothing to do._ She thought to herself as she looked around. She seemed to be in North's _real_ workshop: yetis were shouting to and fro, crafting toy castles, and making wooden little trains.

A gleaming new rocket caught the light, and that got her attention. "Can I take a look at it?" she asked the yeti at the table. It nodded, and as she reached to take the rocket –

It disappeared.

 _What the_ hell _?_ She _swore_ she didn't touch the toy, but why did it disappear?

She turned and checked the other yetis' tables, thinking, _maybe I touched something connecting it._

But as soon as she turned to see what had happened to the tables behind her, she screamed.

* * *

"Um," Jack broke out in the awkward silence. "Maybe we should find someone to check on Joyce."

Tooth looked worried, too. "Yeah, North," she said. "She should've been able to travel back by shadow by now."

"But maybe she's looking at the toys," Bunny reasoned. "It should be quite cool to anyone entering it for the first time," he caught North's surprised grin. "Yeah, don't look at me like that, I'm not trying to make your Christmas sound better than my Easter."

"I did not look at you," North shrugged as he pretended to look down at his work again.

"You did."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Shut up, you're both being very stupid." Jack said, leaning casually on a pillar.

"Yeah, but it's still more sensible than the usual stuff that you talk about," Bunny replied. "You know, that ki—"

"Oh, I don't know," Jack said in an usually high pitch. "But someone seemed to have puk—"

Bunny's paw covered his mouth in time. "Shut _up,_ " he hissed. "Or I'll—"

But he didn't need to finish. Jack was already shaking with laughter, and as soon as the paw was taken off, he doubled up, still laughing.

"You know, you look especially disgusting when you laugh," Bunny said as he tried to maintain his scowl, but was ignored by Jack.

Everyone joined in and laughed, but just at that instance, a sharp and piercing scream rang out throughout the workshop.

* * *

Then, Jack watched, alarmed, as North sank slowly into a kneel, agony clearly lined on his face.

Every other table was gone. All the toys, yetis…nothing was there – there were only ashes, and the clean white bones of the yetis.

And yet, what terrified Joyce the most was that – she felt heightened in the process. It was as if she took a drug—her vision sharpened, her heart beating faster, one side of her brain screaming for her to show all her powers, to destroy everything around just because she could. The other side was trying to take control back, to hold back her powers and restrain her from taking in more souls for pleasure.

But it was a pathetic attempt, like trying to hold a dam together with some planks then trying to prevent it from collapsing. The crazy side of her head won the war in her head in a split second, and the black-haired girl was forced to watch in horror as she pointed a hand towards the globe. She somehow seemed to know that it was North's center of power. It immediately began to corrode, its flickering lights going out all at once. The staircases, the strong stone floors all melted away as if they were jelly melting.

She clutched at her head, trying to _stop, stop,_ but it was as if her body was no longer hers: she could only watch, terrified, as she shadow-travelled to Jack, reaching her hand out to touch him—

"Joyce? What happened?" Jack said, his voice worried, as he tried to take her outstretched hand.

 _NO!_ For one moment, her mind seemed to have taken control again, and she immediately took back her hand. _RUN!_ The sensible side of her head said.

As she shadow-travelled to one part of the runway for the reindeers, the crazy part of her started shouting again, _idiot! What were you doing? Taking a Guardian's soul could've allowed you to gain access to all their powers!_

And after that, even seeing things in front of her seemed to become impossibility. Everything seemed to become an uncomprehendable blur of events, mostly including her wrecking North's workshop. It only came back into focus when she watched the workshop melt like wax, throwing her head laughing out loud.

"What happened?" Bunny asked, his voice clearly alerted.

North spoke through his clenched teeth, "I think…someone is…trying to…argh!" He almost collapsed as Tooth flew immediately to his side, helping him get upright. He nodded his thanks, and his breathing seemed to calm just a slight bit. "Someone is trying to…to…destroy my powers," he panted as he spoke.

Sandy tugged at Jack's hand, pointing at the globe.

Which made Jack, who usually didn't feel temperatures, suddenly feel very cold. "Uh…North? I think your globe is melting," he said, and before he could continue about the ground, which was growing somehow a bit unsteady, North had already pushed him aside, ignoring his agony, running in front of the globe and looking at it, as if his worst nightmare was playing right in front of his eyes.

Tooth and Sandy and Bunny followed immediately, holding North as they tried to help him get his strength back.

Jack was just going to start forward to ask him what happened, when Joyce suddenly appeared next to him.

The carpet under her feet immediately started to turn in ashes, starting from under her, but she was taking no notice. Joyce, who always cared about how her powers might hurt people. Joyce, who was always afraid of letting her powers flow out of her themselves.

 _This isn't her._ Jack thought to himself, but there she was. The girl who he would've recognized anywhere, just taking a look at the perfect curves, and the log dark hair… But this Joyce…this Joyce didn't even _seem_ like Joyce. Her pupils were thrown wide, only a very slight colour difference very near the whites of her eyes showing which the dark brown irises were and which the pupils were. Her cheeks were flushed bright red, and she was smiling a smile that was…mad, a smile that only people not knowing what they were doing would've smiled.

"Joyce?" Jack asked very cautiously. "What happened?"

 _Calm down._ He wanted to say. But as Joyce reached out her hand to hold his, she suddenly seemed to be conscious of her surrounding and her actions. Realization, and horror and fear suddenly filled her eyes as they widened a little more, (so widened that Jack had thought it not possible) and, without a word, the black-haired girl shadow-travelled away again.

"Joyce!" Jack shouted after her, confused. But even before shouting out, he already knew it was hopeless.

He sighed inwardly, hoping that walking to the balcony with the other Guardians would be better as he could get a better view of what was happening.

Instead, when he reached the balcony, all he saw was the terrified faces of elves, yetis, and the Guardians themselves.

The globe was almost completely gone, and the staircase was melting at an alarming rate. There seemed to be not much elves and yetis left, and everywhere Jack looked, he could see a yeti or an elf being turned into ashes, with the murderer laughing as she disappeared and reappeared across the room, casually destroying more of North's workshop, more of his powers.

Without hesitation, Jack flew down the empty space that had once belonged to the globe, trying to chase the girl who disappeared just a second ago, just before he could land.

In the end, he managed to find a remaining terrified elf, who he held tightly on to as he waited to see if Joyce would fall for his "bait".

He was very lucky, as soon enough, the black-haired girl landed with a _thump_ in front of him, her dress billowing for a moment before it settled. She had even somehow transformed it into a better dress—it was a dress without sleeves, but it had a deep-V, where a beautiful pendant, having what seemed like a white opal with white ashes contained inside, hung from her neck. Her dress had become shorter, too – it reached just above her knees, and Jack would've very much appreciated her new look and would've stared at her the whole day if she wasn't behaving so strangely right now.

"Give me back my elf," her voice, familiar but commanding, rang out as she stretched out her arm plainly, reaching for the elf hugged tightly in his arms. Her eyes were no longer friendly; they were cold, and burning with a fire that was definitely not hers.

And Jack almost followed her command. From that distance, he couldn't exactly see her eyes; the brown and black seemed to mix together. He thought she was returning to normal. And for that, his hold _did_ loosen by a tiny bit. Which allowed the pale white hand to grab the elf, turning it into ashes before it could even scream.

 _Damn,_ Jack thought, cursing himself. _What were you doing?_

Fortunately, his reflexes were very quick: as Joyce tried to take her hand back, Jack _felt,_ rather than saw, ice forming a protective layer in his palm as he grabbed Joyce's arm, effectively extending the ice and wrapping it layer after layer on her hand so that it could allow them time to talk before it all melts. (Though it shouldn't be melting very quickly, considering the fact that they were in the North Pole)

"Joyce," he spoke with as much calmness and steadiness as he could manage, meeting and holding her wild gaze. "Listen to me."

Their faces were so close, and he wanted to reach his other hand to hold and feel those beautiful high cheekbones, to stroke that amount of hair gently in his hands. But the Joyce that he saw, seemed to be a thousand miles away, and this Joyce in front of him seemed to be just an empty shell, a body without a soul.

He tried to tighten the ring of ice around her arm. "Look, this is not you, okay? The real you is—" Jack mind spun as he tried to recall who the real Joyce would be like. "is compassionate, is caring, would jump away for hurting even just one elf, okay? The real you would never go around and destroy North's workshop. The real you would – would fall in love with me—"

"But I _am_ in love with you," she interrupted blankly. "That's why I asked you to come with me. Isn't that all love's about? Doing what you like with the person you want most?"

That had almost cut him right through. _No, Joyce. That is_ so _not what love's about. It's – just – come back to me, please,_ He screamed in his mind.

"But then you refused, or maybe, _I_ refused to let you in," Joyce continued, her face screwed up as she tried to remember the memory. "Anyway, since you didn't end up with me, so I guess…we're pretty much done." She shrugged like this was something that happened all the time.

But Jack could hold it back no longer. "I have always been in love with you, and the real you would've _come back to me!_ " He yelled, as loudly as he could, the impatient rage that he had been suppressing suddenly rising up all at once.

He didn't care if he'd become ashes or anything, or if she would be killing him with a knife: all that was spinning in him was the urge to call the real Joyce back. He shook her by the shoulders, shaking her hard. _"Do you hear me? Come back!"_ he saw the shock in her eyes, but he didn't care. He wanted her eyes to focus again, he wanted to close the distance he felt from her soul again. " _I said, come back!"_ he was almost screaming into her ear now, and he shook her even more desperately, more strongly.

Her eyes seemed to really focus this time. She craned her neck to look at Jack, her lips forming the question – " _Jack?_ " – that he had expected in his mind already, but he wanted to hear it himself.

But that was where he was wrong.

She just disappeared.

* * *

Jack looked around wildly, wishing that Joyce would've reappeared somewhere near, but she seemed to be just – gone. He looked to see if she was on the staircase, or any balcony. But the fact was, there was no staircase, nor any balcony. Even the wooden floor that he had been standing on was gone – he was actually flying himself, without knowing it. He looked towards the place where the Guardians had been before, where a golden cloud now hovered. _Sandy. Thank_ God.

He motioned for the Guardians to leave, and Sandy almost asked him (with signpost language) why he was still staying, but one glare from Jack was enough to explain. Sandy nodded, and the golden cloud slowly rose to the air, and, (somehow) managed to fly through one of the last remaining windows.

Jack nodded a satisfied nod to himself, and that was when something black caught his eye. He looked again, and there she was. Joyce, standing on the remaining stone floor, her arms moving fluidly as if she were conducting an orchestra of destruction.

"Joyce—" Jack said as he advanced towards her, only to be blasted with a shower of wooden splints, which would've been deathly to his face if he hadn't touched them with his hand and turned them all into ice.

Jack made a few more attempts to near her, but every time he tried to get near, he was blasted with things like wooden splints, and he was slowly getting desperate.

Although he wanted more than anything to get to Joyce and hold her (as if that would bring her real soul back), it was impossible for him to get near.

He could only watch as the black-haired girl laughed, throwing her head back, as she threw her arms wide, and the whole building melted down.

* * *

She had thought she'd lost Jack forever.

There seemed to be only grey and black colour around as she burned the whole place down, laughing. Her crazy side seemed to be pretty much done now, as she seemed to be able to be conscious of herself again.

Joyce knew that the floorboards were disappearing at an incredible rate, but she dint move to go somewhere else. She somehow wanted to see what would happen, even though she was very much aware of the huge pit below the workshop, which would swallow her up as soon as the floorboards al melt.

"Joyce, please," a voice said behind her. "Come back to me."

 _Jack._ She thought. _Oh, Jack, why do you have to be so stubborn?_

She turned to face him. "What are you doing here?"

"I…" he began. Then he seemed to see something as he met her eyes, as his eyes seemed to have lightened. He sucked in a breath loud enough for her to hear as he said, "You're back. You're _really back!_ "

She wanted to run towards him. She wanted to hug him tight, and run her fingers through his perfect hair again, but she could not. As Jack came nearer, Joyce shadow-travelled, reappearing behind Jack.

"Jack," she said, her voice quiet. "I can't. I just can't."

He turned back towards her. Joyce could see the disappointment in them, but also…why a bit of relief?

"Why?" his voice snapped her focus back.

"Because…" she paused as she tried to find a good explanation. "Because I'll hurt you, because you might die like – like – " she was at a lost for words. The only true reason tumbled out of her mouth, and she screamed, before she could stop herself, "Because I love you!"

She saw Jack's shock, and before he could say what she'd always wanted him to say – _"Oh, Joyce. It doesn't matter, as long as you love me, and I love you." –_ the floor disappeared, and Joyce felt as if a claw had suddenly pulled her down, muting her as she fell, and blacking her out.

...

...

She did not see how Jack tried to get to her, just stopped in time by Sandy and Tooth.

Nor did she see how Jack screamed her name out as he knelt by the edge of the pit, crying without control.

* * *

 **A/N: So that was it, my new update! I hope you guys all liked it, and as I said before, please follow and review, as all your opinions matter ;)**


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